Confrontation
by Sarcastrow
Summary: Molly has a long overdue talk with Petunia.


Confrontation

Petunia stepped out of the ministry car in front of Number Four Private Drive. She was home after a year in an asylum. The Diggles were nice enough hosts, but the sheer amount of magic they used had been overwhelming. Dudley had taken it all very well, Petunia had managed to tolerate it, but Vernon had become twitchy, sullen, and morose. After a time Petunia had come to realize why, he was jealous, and so was she.

It was really nothing to be concerned about in her opinion. It was a natural state for her as she had been jealous of her sister her entire life. Lilly had been pretty, intelligent, and she had been a witch. Deep in her heart Petunia had held on to the secret disappointment. She had never received a letter by owl telling her that she would be whisked off to a fairy tale castle and lean about magic, and it had consumed her.

When Harry had landed on her doorstep she took it as a final insult from her now dead sister. She had taken all her anger at losing her one and only sister, that she would never be able to make amends with, and directed it at Harry. She had taken her disappointment with her son's multiple failings and heaped that upon Harry too. Lastly she had taken all her self-loathing and punished Harry with it.

The older man with the red hair was standing by the door as she, Vernon, and Dudley approached. "Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley," Arthur said. "And you're Dudley. I remember you being a bit… fuller."

"Dedalus was quite appalled, really," Dudley said with a melancholy smile. "Said he saw an occasional magical child get fat from using magic instead of his feet, but he never saw someone like I was." Dudley puffed out his now muscled chest. He was still rotund fellow, but not nearly as flabby, and he didn't wheeze as he did the last time Arthur saw him. "This is what happens after a year of chopping wood and gardening. Better than any gym I ever went to!"

"Yes, all well and good for you," Vernon said. "But we had lives that… the boy ruined. Let's just get inside before the neighbors see."

"Yes, well I think Mrs. Dursley should precede you and do a bit of inspection first," Arthur said and opened the door for her. "In you go." He closed the door behind her after she entered the house, and then he turned to Vernon and Dudley. "We'll be waiting here for a bit. My wife wants a word with yours," he said coldly, looking Vernon in the eyes.

"B, but the neighbors!" Vernon spluttered.

Arthur smiled in his face. "Dursley, I don't give two shits about your neighbors."

Petunia entered the sitting room and found it the same as she had left. She drug her finger along the mantle, and it came away free of dust. She smiled.

"Harry made sure the place was spotless for your return," a voice said from the kitchen doorway. "Personally I would have left it the mess that the Death Eaters made of it, but he wouldn't have it. That young man is too forgiving." Petunia looked into Molly Weasley's stern face. "I, however, am not."

Fear flared in Petunia's eyes and Molly chuckled. "Arthur has my wand."

"You're not going to use magic on me?" Petunia asked, fearful.

"As much as I want to, no," Molly said. "I am, however, going to talk, and you are going to listen."

"Am I," Petunia said haughtily.

Molly stalked forward and Petunia backed into the umbrella stand. "Yes," The red headed woman said menacingly.

"I, I never…"

"Oh, shut it!" Molly shouted and furiously turned her back on Petunia. She took a few steps and spun back to face her. "Your sister was a wonderful person. I know. She was my friend, and I have never understood how you could be so cold to her child. She was your SISTER!" Molly was panting in fury. "And that boy is genuine treasure, no thanks to you. You treated him worse than a dog. Starved him, beat him, belittled him, and worst of all; you lied to him about his parents. For all those years you lied about his father and made snide spiteful comments about your sister. You are a pathetic person, Petunia Evans, and you tortured your sister's son out of your own spite."

Small tears started in Petunia's eyes, and she blinked rapidly. "I loved Lilly," she said in a small, defensive voice.

"I don't believe you," Molly said flatly. "No one that loved her sister would do to her son what you did, NO ONE!" She unconsciously reached into her pocket and smiled. "Arthur was right to take my wand."

"No, I did… do love her."

"Then how do you live with yourself?" Molly asked unkindly.

"I was so angry with her," Petunia said almost in a whisper. "So angry. She was so pretty and talented, and she married that handsome man, and she had… everything. And then she was gone… along with all my chances."

"You had a chance with Harry," Molly spat.

"Vernon…"

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Molly shouted, and then continued in the quite voice her children feared so much. "Don't you dare try to put this off on your husband. You were her sister, you are his aunt, you should have protected him from your worthless hulk of a man. Everything lays at your feet Petunia Evans, everything." Molly was getting wound. "He suffered here. Where it should have been a warm and welcoming family, you made it a hell."

"I was outraged the first summer he came to us." Molly glared daggers at the skinny woman as she spoke. "He was so afraid to ask for anything, and food!" she ground her teeth for a moment. "When I learned how little you fed him, how he had to prepare food that he was never allowed to eat, how you fed him scraps." Molly looked like she was about to physically beat Petunia for few seconds before regain her composure. "We have some very sick, maybe even demented people among us that like nothing more than causing pain, but even they have their limits. They would never abuse a child the way you abused and tortured Harry."

"I'm sorry," Petunia said, and tears flowed down her face.

"I am not the one that needs to hear that," Molly said. Minerva would have been proud at her tone. "Harry has said he will come to see you one last time if you want. He's curious about your son, but he has no desire to see your husband again, ever."

Petunia nodded. "I'm sure the feeling is mutual."

"What do you see when you look in Harry's eyes?" Molly asked.

Petunia looked at her with a mixture of sadness and shame on her face. "I can't look in his eyes. It's… it's too painful." She looked down at the perfectly vacuumed floor. "I wanted to, before we left, I wanted to say…" she trailed off.

"What, what would you say to him after all you did?"

Petunia sobbed. "I'd tell him that I loved my sister, and that I was angry with her, and, and a little afraid. I'd tell him that I know now I was wrong." And in the smallest of voices she said, "I'd say I'm sorry."

"I will arrange for you and your son to travel by floo to my home on Saturday. You can make your apologies there," Molly said, and turned to go. "Oh, and there will be lunch." She said over her shoulder as she opened the door.

Arthur looked in and saw Petunia looking lost in the middle of the perfect furniture in the sitting room. "Huh, still standing. Good on you, Molly."

"We're done here, Arthur," she said, and hurried into the car without a backward glance.

Arthur turned to Mr. Dursley and smiled. "Well it seems that our time together has come to an end. Goodbye Dursley, with any luck this will be the last time we see each other." Then he turned to Dudley. "I suspect you'll be hearing from Harry eventually. Goodbye."

From across the street, and over her back fence, Arabella Figg watched through her omnioculars. She listened through an extendable ear set the Order had given her to monitor the Dursleys and Harry during his last few years there. The vengeful smile made her look remarkably like her cousin, Druella Black. She had heard every word. Molly had missed a few points, but had got the punch to the gut in that Arabella had wanted to deliver to Petunia Dursley since she first discovered how poorly they treated Harry.

Now that Harry was out of the picture, Arabella began to think about how Vernon Dursley's prized roses were soon going to undergo a terrible and unending blight. Smiling to herself she deactivated the extendable ears, and then whistled a tuneless melody as she picked up Mr. Tibbles and strolled back into her house.


End file.
